(28)
Oh Yazin
He took it and lowered the eye
From Republic Street, first Faisal
Between Sharif and Saudi Al-Sanadili Streets
Corona time, fireworks and firecrackers
and drugs
Oh Yazin
He took it and lowered the eye
Oh Yazin.. Ah Yazin.. Oh Yazin. Barhuma Hunido, the caller, groans with longing for his dear deceased, Zain Walad Barhuma, Zeina, the youth of the gypsies of the Green Hill, the heart of the central desert.
The parrots migrating to the desert in the winter repeat the groans of Barhuma, so that the groans in their beaks turn into a question: Oh Yazin?
The neighborhood's young brothers gather around Barhouma and the migratory parrots, answering the question: He took it and went to Al-Ain.
Barhouma sneaks into his house, causing silence, so the parrots become silent, and the kids leave throughout the morning hours, leaving Barhuma in front of his tent.
The sun tops the face of the sky, and the shadows of the things beneath it disappear.
The migratory parrots repeat: "Wah, Yazeen... until the groans turn into a question, and the naughty little neighborhood responds: He took it and went down to the eye."
The children tell the stories of Zain, the son of Barhuma Hunido, and his mistress Daadiya, the most beautiful gypsy beauties of the Green Hills in the central desert:
Child 1: In the beginning, Zain Walad Barhuma's muscular muscles attracted the attention of Hasnaa Bani Hakim Daadiyah while he was grazing the sheep of the master of his people, Hakim Zenawi, the sheikh of the Zenawi sheikhs, and the covering of her face fell to the ground.
Child 2: Zain's heart sank with the fall of the face covering, when Jamal Daadiyah, which no one can resist, took away from his mind.
Child 3: Belle calmed down the macho boy's turmoil and promised to meet.
Child 4: The time for the meeting came under the cover of darkness, and Barhuma Hunido's son disappeared, and the beautiful woman returned to her father's tents to wither until she became a skeleton.
Barhuma Hanido groaned as he continued his search for his lonely woman: Oh Yazin.. Oh Yazin.
The young and the migratory parrots fall silent, leaving Barhouma to groan in the middle of the road between his tent and the spring of Maa Al-Zanawiya.
Night falls, and Barhuma wakes up from his slumber, heading towards the spring of water, calling out to her groans: “Wah, Yazin…Wah, Yazin…Wah, Yazin.”
The migratory parrots repeat the groans until they become a question, and the naughty little neighborhood responds: He took it and went down to the eye.
The naughty little ones from the hill say: The daughters of the elves took pity on the son of Barhuma, who was very bully and energetic, when wise men surrounded him to kill him. Edge of the eye to wipe his tears and console his loneliness.
A short story written by / Mahmoud Hassan Farghaly
Member of the Writers Union
Member of the Syndicate of Film Professions
mahmoudhassanfarghaly@yahoo.com
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(29)
Bashir Rabia
From Republic Street, first Faisal
Between Sharif and Saudi Al-Sanadili Streets
Corona time, fireworks and firecrackers
and drugs
Bashir Rabia
Bashir Rabi`a continues to dance alone after the people of Tal Awaini gypsies rejected him from the far south of the Lesser Desert because he was good at infiltrating the hearts of the tents day and night.
Bashir Rabia robs him of what is available to him at night, and fulfills the needs of women whose husbands are absent from them during the day.
Bashir Rabi’a’s biography goes bad and is filled with the most horrible descriptions, so the people of the hill decide to expel him in broad daylight, handcuffed with ropes, naked in trousers, smeared with ashes on the back of a donkey, facing the road with his back bowed, his head turned back, his eyes turned back.
The pack donkey knows its way down the hill far away, and it does not stop except at the point where its owner, Othman Lu'lu', returned to it, at the bottom of the Western Mountain, where the outcasts know no mercy.
Bashir Rabia will flee from certain death if he is met by a bandit, starting from his hideout in the Western Mountain.
Othman's donkey Lu'lu' Bashir Rabi'a falls into the womb of the desert and returns to the hill safely.
Bashir Rabi`a regains consciousness, which he lost due to the intensity of the people of the hill slapping his cheeks, spitting on his face, and hitting him with sticks and whips the length and breadth of his body while he was on the back of a donkey behind a dispute going on in the paths of the hill until he left it.
Bashir Rabia manages to bite the ropes that bind him, and he takes a dance of escape from death until he finds himself surrounded by the western mountain bandits on the backs of their horses, their swords shining, and sparks emanating from their red eyes.
The western mountain bandits leave, leaving the dancer's corpse to survive for lions and birds of prey.
A short story written by / Mahmoud Hassan Farghaly
Member of the Writers Union
Member of the Syndicate of Film Professions
mahmoudhassanfarghaly@yahoo.com
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